


Graceful as Water

by Findswoman



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Assault, Blood, F/M, Murder, Not sexual violence per se, Tusken Raiders (Star Wars), but the perpetrator is getting a certain amount of pleasure from what he's doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:20:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24663745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findswoman/pseuds/Findswoman
Summary: A young Tusken warrior declares his love for the chieftain’s daughter in an unexpected and horrific way (see tags and warnings).
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	Graceful as Water

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in March 2017 for the [Celtic Song Challenge](http://boards.theforce.net/threads/the-celtic-song-challenge-four-songs-of-love-murder-and-rebellion-left.50043753/) at JCF Fanfic. I received the disconcertingly bouncy murder ballad known variously as “The Oxford Girl,” “The Wexford Girl,” or “The Knoxville Girl”; see here for videos and lyrics. Content warning for **murder** and **graphic violence**.

Chieftain’s daughter!

I saw her once in the double sunset, riding over the dune on her bantha heifer with the white-tipped fur. The jewels of her mask glinted in the twilight, and her skirts and wrappings fluttered behind her in the desert wind, as gracefully as water.

I heard her cries of joy and success—for she had just come from gathering black melons in the Jundland Wastes. The basket of precious fruit was strapped on the saddle behind her. In a twirling motion she took herself and it down from the heifer’s back, then cradled it in her arms as she brought it to her mother and the women of the camp. Their happy shouts greeted her, and as she moved through the admiring crowd, she was like the desert wind herself, or like the rivulets of an oasis—graceful as water!

Yes, I saw and I heard, and my heart was pierced and bludgeoned for the chieftain’s daughter, as graceful as water.

I saw nothing but her, heard nothing but her, smelled nothing but her. My thoughts wandered to her on raids, on hunts, in the tribal council, around the storyteller’s evening fires. All my raiding, plundering, and killing was done for her. I longed to have her linked to me in the shamanic bond, to draw her close to myself, to unwrap her from her veils and shawls and skirts in the darkness of a tent . . .

Would she have me? Without a doubt! I am a warrior of no small ability. I have slain two krayt dragons besides the one I hunted at fifteen suns, at my coming of age. I led the raid that subdued the tribes of the Northern Dune Sea. Of all the youths my age it is I who have brought my tribe the most plunder, the most water, and the most glory. Surely she (or any other maiden of the tribe) would be mad not to have me.

And yet . . . she was so young. The Great Moon had only made three of its circuits since she had undertaken her fifteen-sun krayt hunt. The mask and robes of adult womanhood—oh, that mask, those robes!—had only been on her those three moon-circuits. She was her father’s jewel. The question nagged at me: would he agree to my suit, or would I have to wait?

No, I would not wait. I thought on it further—and made a plan.

One evening, the twin suns were sinking to rest, the campfires were smoldering, and the storyteller had just finished singing and declaiming of our tribe’s past glories. I saw the graceful girl making her way back to her tent; I approached her and asked if she would stroll with me under the light of the three moons.

She assented: “Yes, I shall go with you, but first I must return to my tent and retrieve my gaderffii. The night is dark, and there are dangers about.”

“You will not need it,” I responded, simply.

She stood for a moment, looking at me—and then we walked together away from the camp, up toward the great dunes.

We walked together several minutes, saying little to each other except for scattered comments on the beauty of the evening and the moonlight. What was there to say? Speaking would only drown out the sweet swish of her skirts over the sand. Now and then they brushed against my feet, just as water splashes the sides of the drinking gourd. Here, by my side, at last, was the girl as graceful as water!

At last we reached the summit of the highest dune. I stopped. She also stopped. We looked out together, over the sleepy sands, out at the shadowy night. And then—

Then I drew my own gaderffii—the largest, the fiercest of any of those made by the youths—and I struck her.

Yes, I struck her—on the back of her head. I struck her again, and again, piercing her sand-shroud and head-wrappings until—oh wonder—streams of dark blood coursed their way down her shoulders, as gracefully as water!

How she shrieked, how she screamed! “Stop! Please, please stop!” But how could I? She was more beautiful than ever now in her bloody agony. I struck her again—and again—and again!—and her blood flowed, and her screams filled the air!—until at she collapsed motionless on the stained sand.

I stood for a few moments in bliss, gazing upon the lovely, bloodied form stretched before me. Then, wiping and stowing my gaderffii, I dragged that precious burden to the edge of the rocky cliffs—and hurled it in! And the blood poured out as water now made a beautiful sunburst on the chasm floor.

I turned and made my way back to the camp.

* * *

They found out, of course. Her bantha—the pretty heifer with the white-tipped fur—had followed the scent of her blood first to the dune, then to the edge of the cliff, where she was found sitting and pining three days later. It did not take them long to trace the deed to me. I was captured, bound, and hauled before the chieftain.

He railed at me and condemned me, all the while shaking with rage and grief. I was sentenced to be exposed in the Laguna Caves, to become the prey of the krayt dragons I once hunted. Not that I cared. I had already had my pleasure, and how could any punishment ever take it from me?

And there I am now. The night darkens and chills as I lie bound on the jagged stone, awaiting the crunch of the dragon’s jaws. It has surely smelt me by now, for its growls grow louder and closer every minute. But let it come! I am not afraid. My final throes will be brightened by the memory of that lovely evening—atop the dune with the chieftain’s daughter, whose blood flowed over the sands as graceful as water!

**Author's Note:**

> The Wookieepedia article on the Tusken Raiders (Sand People) is [here](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Tusken_Raider). Just to summarize, here are a few points of particular importance to this story: (a) water is sacred to them, and they believe all water is rightfully theirs; (b) they do embark on a krayt dragon hunt at age fifteen as a coming-of-age ritual, after whose successful completion they may finally dress in a way that distinguishes their gender; (c) gaderffii sticks are handmade by each warrior, with each being different; and (d) each adult Tusken has a bantha mount of the same sex with whom he or she bonds closely.  
>   
> The Great Moon: Tatooine has three moons—[Ghomrassen](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Ghomrassen), [Guermessa](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Guermessa), and [Chenini](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Chenini). I’m not sure if the Sand People would know the moons by these names, but they certainly would see that there are moons and that they are different in size (Ghomrassen is the biggest and is thus the “Great Moon” referenced here), and it would make sense that they would use one or more of the moons as an aid in timekeeping, just as we Earthers do.  
>   
> Finally, I hope all my readers will believe me when I say I do not in the least condone the protagonist’s course of action. This story was a bit of an experiment for me, since usually it’s very hard for me to relate to protagonists who have no redeeming qualities at all; that’s part of why I felt the need to have the man punished at the end, which of course does not happen in the song. The best I can say is that I hope it came off all right, and to thank Pandora for putting this challenge together and teaching me some new songs.


End file.
